SCENE IOLIVIA's house.
Enter SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN
No, faith, I'll not stay a jot
Thy reason, dear venom, give thy
You must needs yield your reason,
Marry, I saw your niece do more
favors to the count's serving-man than ever
she bestowed upon me; I saw't i' the orchard.
Did she see thee the while, old (10)
boy? tell me that.
As plain as I see you now.
This was a great argument of love in
her toward you.
'Slight, will you make an ass o'
I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon
the oaths of judgement and reason.
And they have been grand-jurymen
since before Noah was a sailor.
She did show favor to the youth in
your sight only to exasperate you, to awake
your dormouse valor, to put fire in your
heart, and brimstone in your liver. You should
then have accosted her; and with some excellent
jests, fire-new from the mint, you should
have banged the youth into dumbness. This
was looked for at your hand, and this was
balked: the double gilt of this opportunity
you let time wash off, and you are now sailed
into the north of my lady's opinion; where
you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's
beard, unless you do redeem it by some (31)
laudable attempt either of valor or policy.
An't be any way, it must be with
valor; for policy I hate: I had as lief be a
Brownist as a politician.
Why, then, build me thy fortunes
upon the basis of valor. Challenge me the
count's youth to fight with him; hurt him in
eleven places: my niece shall take note of it;
and assure thyself, there is no love-broker in
the world can more prevail in man's commendation (41)
with woman than report of valor.
There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.
Will either of you bear me a
challenge to him?
Go, write it in a martial hand; be
curst and brief; it is no matter how witty, so
it be eloquent and full of invention: taunt
him with the license of ink: if thou thou'st
him some thrice, it shall not be amiss; and
as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of paper,
although the sheet were big enough for the
bed of Ware in England, set 'em down: go,
about it. Let there be gall enough in thy ink,
though thou write with a goose-pen, no
matter: about it.
Where shall I find you?
We'll call thee at the cubiculo: go. [Exit Sir Andrew.
This is a dear manakin to you, Sir Toby.
I have been dear to him, lad, some
two thousand strong, or so.
We shall have a rare letter from him: (61)
but you'll not deliver't?
Never trust me, then; and by all
means stir on the youth to an answer. I think
oxen and wainropes cannot hale them together.
For Andrew, if he were opened, and
you find so much blood in his liver as will clog
the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of the
And his opposite, the youth, bears in
his visage no great presage of cruelty. Enter MARIA.
Look, where the youngest wren of (71)
If you desire the spleen, and will
laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me. Yond
gull Malvolio is turned heathen, a very renegado;
for there is no Christian, that means to
be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe
such impossible passages of grossness. He's
in yellow stockings. (79)
Most villanously; like a pedant that
keeps a school i' the church. I have dogged
him, like his murderer. He does obey every
point of the letter that I dropped to betray
him: he does smile his face into more lines
than is in the new map with the augmentation
of the Indies: you have not seen such a
thing as 'tis. I can hardly forbear hurling
things at him. I know my lady will strike him:
if she do, he'll smile and take't for a great favor. (90)
Come, bring us, bring us where he is. [Exeunt.